


Score

by orphan_account



Category: Football RPF
Genre: First Time, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 03:55:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8562904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Memphis scores twice for the Netherlands and then a third time over the phone.





	

_did u see_

_see what?_

_my goals_

Laying back in bed, Memphis drums his fingers against his stomach, waiting for Luke to text back. He's a little sore all over, because no matter how much he practices, matches are always rougher, harder. So even though he only went 45, Memphis feels a bit like he's been run over. Wouldn't feel like this, if he got more minutes on the regular. But it's false hope, thinking what he pulled off today will make a bit of difference. It won't.

_yea did_

_and?_

_fucking brilliant  
As always ;)_

The winky face is fucking cheesy, but he's already gone at Luke about that before. Now Memphis supposes it’s sort of cute. Not that Luke is cute….no. That’s not the right word because “cute” is about like, puppies and babies and fit girls. And Luke is something else. Something not cute. Even though sometimes when Luke smiles, or sends cheesy winks, Memphis feels like he can do fucking anything, just for the hope of seeing him smile again. 

_what are you doing_

_im in bed  
U?_

_same_

Memphis dips his hand lower, into the waistband of his boxers, not really touching himself, not yet. He slots the base of his cock between his thumb and forefinger, just holding it in place.

He has a pretty good track record with this, getting Luke to send him suggestive texts. He likes to think it’s charm, but maybe Luke is just easy. But easy isn’t...bad? Maybe it’s easy because it’s good. Because it’s right? 

Only, they haven’t touched each other. Really touched each other. They’re around each other all the time in Manchester. They touch like friends and teammates, but not like this. Memphis only touches, texts, Luke like this when they’re miles and miles apart, like somehow the distance makes everything permissible. When they’re too close, tussling in practice or lounging around on Luke’s sofa in their sweats, the possibility is so bold and bright they might get burned. 

_oh yeah, what are you thinking about_

_your goals now_  
they were brilliant  
and so are you ;)

_they were great werent they_

Memphis struggles to text with one hand. But it’s not impossible. He curls the other around the base of his cock, feeling it harden as Luke feeds him praise. Like a starving man to breadcrumbs, but Luke always plans for a feast.

_you looked so good out there_  
top class  
wouldnt want to be against you

 They both know that day is coming, though. Memphis tries not to think about January. He tries to think about how January will be the best thing that ever happened to him. Because it turned out, coming to Manchester wasn’t.

 But he also kind of believes it was. Because he found Luke.

_luke…_

_got all hard watching  
if only i were there_

_yeah_

_you really deserve some sort of reward  
don't you_

The goals are reward enough. But if Luke’s offering, Memphis isn’t about to refuse. Wrapping his hand tightly around his shaft, he starts the long, slow drag of his hand. He flips from Luke’s texts to his photos, scrolling back, back, back, until he finds the one he’s looking for. 

It’s dangerous, really, that Luke even sent it, last time they had international break. His head is cropped off, but it’s not like the lean, muscled torso, the cut of his abdominals, could be anyone but Luke. There are enough pictures on the internet to cross-reference and say for certain that it's Luke.

Then again, the photo itself isn’t scandalous. There’s the hint of Luke’s hips, as he tugs his briefs down, the faintest suggestion of light hair, but his cock, while obviously hard, straining against the fabric of his pants, is still covered. It's nothing a lad of 21 wouldn’t send to a girl. Except it’s on Memphis’ phone. So it’s not the picture, it’s the recipient who’s the rub.

_can i call?_

flashes at the top of his screen.

Memphis drops his phone onto his face, bumping into his nose. He spits a curse and grabs at it, navigating back to messages to text Luke back.

His fingers hover over the screen, his erection forgotten for now as his heart thuds inside his chest. The prospect of hearing Luke’s voice feels too close, too intimate, like they're about to cross a threshold. Like this will make it harder to pretend this isn't happening.

_ok_

His phone buzzes in his hand, a shoddy, blurry picture of Luke coming up on screen. Memphis snapped it when they had both been drinking in preseason, too tipsy to wait for the camera to focus. They were holed up at Luke’s, playing xbox and nudging each other with socked feet.

“Hey,” Luke’s cheerful on the other end. Maybe this isn't the kind of watershed Memphis thinks it is. He holds the phone tight to his ear. 

“Hey,” he doesn't mean for his voice to come out so raspy, all aroused and on edge.

Luke laughs thinly, “I just...um,” now there's that hesitance creeping in, the same one Memphis feels skittering along his arteries every time. “I wanted both hands free.”

Neither of them say anything. Memphis just listens to Luke breathe.

“Is this weird for you? I thought you knew…” Luke asks.

Memphis did, he does, “No, I mean, me too. I knew and...me too.” He hits the speaker icon and lets his phone drop to the pillow next to his head. If they're going to do this. They're going to do it. 

He pushes his boxers down off his hips, letting them pool over his thighs, tucked under his balls. The air in his his room is cool, but hangs heavy around his head.

“So, about that reward,” Luke’s voice trails off. He's losing his nerve. Not that Memphis can blame him. The whole thing is surreal. But somehow, just having Luke on the other end of the line makes every touch of his own hand feel more intense. “I've been thinking...a lot about...fuck.” 

“What?” Memphis asks. 

Luke laughs, “Sucking your cock.”

If Memphis were still holding his phone, he would have dropped it again, “Fuck...Luke…” He licks over his dry lips. “I bet, I know, you would look really good on your knees."

“Yeah?” 

Memphis could swear he hears it. Luke wrapping his hand around his cock, flushed pink at the head. His eyes shut and lips bitten. Memphis wants to be the one to bite them red. “Yeah...you...you done it before?” 

Luke grunts, “Yeah…”

At that answer, Memphis isn't sure if he's supposed to be elated or horrified or hunt down every guy Luke has ever put his mouth on. He kind of wants to to curl up in all those feelings at once until he's bursting. Overwhelmed.

“You ever had it done?” Luke asks, his voice breathy and far away.

“No...yeah,” Memphis corrects, “...only girls.” 

“I'm better than a girl. Promise.”

“Fuck...Luke,” he's deliriously close. Sweat slicking down his skin, rolling to disappear in the sheets. Memphis squeezes tighter, dragging his hand, long and tight along his cock. It's not wet enough to be Luke’s mouth, but it's good, so good. Heat curling in his stomach and sparks along his skin.

“Swallow you down, all the way.” 

Memphis comes messily in his palm, his breathing erratic and chest feeling flushed. On the other end of the line, Luke’s voice is soft again, satisfied and warm. “We should talk, when you get back to Manchester.” 

Dropping his head back against the pillow, Memphis blinks up at the ceiling. His hand is filthy, so he leaves his phone on speaker. “Yeah, yeah.” 

“You don't want to?” 

Memphis shuts his eyes, “I keep thinking this is a dream.”

“I'm not that great,” Luke responds, the smile creeping back into his voice. “But uh, you haven't done this before, like at all? With a guy, I mean?”

“No…”

“It's okay. It's fine,” Luke rushes, “we can just, try it. See if you like it. If not, we’re still friends, right?”

“Always, Luke.” 

“Okay, see you then.”

Silence lingers on the line before Luke finally hangs up.


End file.
